Whirling on Eodan, he said with a wolfish glee, "Come, let's at 'em--the rest will trail us!" "There's a spear somewhere," said the Cimbrian. "Ha! I have my chains!" The big man whirled the links still hanging on his wrists. Eodan thought of Hwicca, of his son and his father, and of Marius' triumphal parade. He swung up the ladder. The crew were gathered nearby on guard. One of them shouted as Eodan's head emerged and ran forward, holding a pike. Eodan braced himself. As the metal thrust at him, he caught its shaft and forced it up. He jerked back while he took the last few rungs. The sailor fell to one knee. Eodan came out on deck, yanked the pike away and tossed it under the legs of the two nearest men approaching him. They went down. "Haw, well cast!" bawled Redbeard. A man was going up the ladder to the poop deck. Over the heads of two or three sailors, Eodan saw that he had a bow. "See up there!" he cried, as he danced back from the Gaul's sword-thrust. Redbeard grunted, whirled his chain and let fly. The Thracian deckhand screamed as the staple end smashed across his face, and dropped his ax. The redbeard picked it up, took aim and threw it. There was a gleam in the air and a meaty whack. The bowman fell off the ladder, wailing, the ax standing in his shoulder. "Back to back," snapped Eodan. The crew were circling him, looking for a chance to rush in. He counted four--the Gaul, the Greek, the Pamphylian, and a stocky fellow with a leather apron, belike a carpenter. The Thracian, who rolled about moaning, and the archer, who lay bleeding to death, were out of the fight. And here, from around the cabin, leaving their hot-water kettle, came Demetrios and Flavius! Redbeard wrapped a chain about his right hand--the links on his left he kept dangling--and twirled it. "Hoy, down there in the pit!" he shouted. "Get off your moldy butts and come crack some bones!" The Pamphylian and the Greek moved in side by side, facing Eodan. The first of them leaped about, thrusting lightly with his sword, not trying to do more than hold the Cimbrian's eyes. Then the Greek worked in from the left. Eodan's blade clanged against his. At once the Pamphylian darted close. Eodan could just whip his sword around in time to wound him and drive him back. It gave the Greek an opening. Eodan saw that assault from the edge of an eye; he got his cloak-shielded arm in the way. The Greek struck for his hip, but the thrust only furrowed Eodan's flesh. Then Redbeard swatted his chain-clad hand around, and the Greek reeled back. Eodan thrust savagely at the Pamphylian, who retreated. Redbeard batted the carpenter's pike aside with his right hand. The chain on his left wrist snapped forth and coiled around the Pamphylian's neck. Redbeard pulled him close, took him by an arm and kicked him down the hatch. "You puking brats!" he roared into the pit, as the sailor fell. "Do I have to send 'em to you?"